


Opening Up

by RadioactiveDeLorean



Category: The LEGO Movie (2014)
Genre: Asexual Emmet Brickowski, Implied/Referenced Self Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Content, M/M, Self Esteem Issues, Stay safe y'all, no description of self harm happening but its heavily implied, this boy needs a hug smh, why can't I write anything normal, yep still using that headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-29 15:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17810918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RadioactiveDeLorean/pseuds/RadioactiveDeLorean
Summary: Emmet has trouble sleeping and often abandons the Cops in the middle of the night in favour of hiding away. He can't bring himself to talk about what's upsetting him, and it takes the Cops talking to him at two in the morning to get him to open up about what's bothering him.A birthday gift formy buddy.





	Opening Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TransformersG1fan271](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransformersG1fan271/gifts).



> I can't stop writing LEGOs, send help.

If there was one thing that the Cop disliked about Emmet, one thing at all, it was his inability to say anything when something was upsetting him. Despite the fact they’d told Emmet a million times “if you’re ever upset, please just talk to us and we can work it out”, Emmet still bottled everything up until it took barricading Emmet in the bedroom for him to talk. Years of social isolation had taught Emmet that nobody was going to listen to anything he had to say, so there really was no point in saying anything at all. Especially when the things he needed to say weren’t exactly something someone could bring up in casual conversation.

It made spending nights with Emmet much harder.

Half the time, Emmet would snore away peacefully, spooned up to the Cops. They always kept him tucked in close, wanting to reassure him that  _yes_ , they did love him, and his paranoia was unwarranted. They never really got up to much in bed besides sleeping - Emmet really wasn’t interested in that sort of thing, and quite often the Cops found themselves too exhausted from work to do much - so the way they cuddled each other was kept strictly PG. At most, neither Emmet nor the Cops would have a shirt on, which depended on a mixture of the weather and just how comfortable Emmet felt that day, but never anything less.

Telling the Cops that he really wasn’t interested in sex was one of the hardest things Emmet had ever done. They’d been engrossed in each other on the couch one day, with Bad Cop crouched over Emmet, who was lying flat on his back. As they’d made out, Emmet had felt Bad Cop’s hands trail further down his body until they just about reached the region between his thighs. At that point, Emmet had fallen off the couch in his rush to move away, stammering apologies and excuses before finally coming out with it - quite literally. It had taken a little bit of explaining, but once the Cops had understood, they’d been nothing less than accepting.

Emmet’s lack of interest in sex, however, was one of the things that made him terrified that the Cops would leave him.

They’d both told him time and time again that they really didn’t think sex was all that important in a relationship. Sure, it could be nice and all, but they were more than happy to forgo any physical intimacy if it meant keeping Emmet comfortable and happy. Emmet  _wanted_ to believe them, he really did. But he’d heard them in the bathroom from time to time, making odd noises and muttering his name, before emerging five minutes later with a red face. He knew that they wanted to be able to pound him into the mattress, and the thought made him sick for a number of reasons.

Reason number one was obvious: his fear and utter repulsion over the idea of sexual intercourse. He really couldn’t explain why he was like that; he just was. As far as he could remember, he’d always been like it. Growing up, especially during high school when his classes were full of hormonal teenage guys, he could always remember this utter apathy towards having sex. Some of the guys (granted, not all of them, but some) had boasted about how great their girlfriends were in bed, or how they loved touching themselves, or any other number of things that made Emmet’s stomach churn. He’d always been quiet whenever those people had been talking (not that he was ever particularly chatty in school, to begin with) and tried to think of  _literally anything else_  other than the thought of touching himself. Some of the girls in his classes had been similar, but Emmet had tuned them out just as easily as he’d tuned out the boys. It hadn’t been until he’d turned twenty-six that he realised just why he felt the way that he did. And that those feelings were  _normal._

Reason number two as to why the thought of the Cops going to fourth base with him made Emmet feel scared? He knew he’d never be able to go that far. He knew that they’d gotten off at the thought of him, and what other conclusion was there other than the fact that they were imagining going all the way with him? It certainly wasn’t the thought of Emmet talking about one of his favourite movies that had gotten them all hot and bothered. Emmet knew that they wanted something from him, as much as they denied it, and he knew that he would never be able to provide. He couldn’t give them what they wanted, and he knew that made him unworthy of being with them.

The other half of the times the Cops spent the night with Emmet, they woke up to find that they were alone in the bed. The spot where Emmet had been was empty, the mattress and duvet cold, indicating that Emmet had been gone quite some time. Most of the time, they found Emmet either in the bathroom or lying on the couch, both of which were upsetting. (Seeing Emmet abandon his nice, warm, comfy bed in order to sleep on the couch in  _his own goddamn apartment_  was heartbreaking. His couch was old and lumpy and really not that comfortable to sleep on, and the thought that Emmet would rather spend his night there than in bed with his own partners made the Cops feel somewhat ill). If they found Emmet in the bathroom, chances were that he had something in his hand, and they’d had to gently prise it out of his grip before bringing him in for a much-needed hug. Sometimes, they’d get there late enough for Emmet to have either been midway-though or finished completely, in which case they’d just quietly pick up the first aid kit and tend to him. If they found Emmet on the couch, he would either be crying his heart out into the couch cushions or fast asleep. If he was crying, they’d sit on the floor beside the couch and run their fingers through his hair, murmuring reassurances to him softly. If he was already asleep, they’d cook him a nice, high-sugar breakfast, typically pancakes, and talk with him when he woke up.

Emmet really did hate making them worry, but the insecurities he felt whenever he climbed under the duvet beside his partners just overwhelmed him sometimes. Unless he slept peacefully straight through the night, he’d end up forcing himself to be as silent as possible as he slipped out of bed. It was either get up and leave the Cops to sleep or lie there staring at the ceiling and force himself not to freak out. The first option was always easier. It meant that when the tears inevitably did start falling, he was somewhere private where he wouldn’t disturb his partners.

Of course, the Cops were never particularly happy to find that Emmet had abandoned them in the middle of the night in favour of drowning himself in his own thoughts.

That’s not to say they were  _angry_. Man Upstairs no. They just hated seeing how Emmet was so torn apart by all his self-doubt, his fears, his paranoia and ingrained habits and thoughts. They knew Emmet had a horrible routine of: have something upset him; bottle it up and hide it; bottle up so much that it gets too much; explode emotionally and spend hours sobbing into the couch cushions, and repeat. It wasn’t healthy, but it was the only way Emmet knew how to react to things.

And it only made the Cops more determined to help him.

One night, the Cops forced themselves to stay awake, merely pretending to be asleep. At around two-thirty in the morning, they heard a sharp gasp from beside them and felt the mattress shift. Emmet had woken up again. They waited for him to get up and leave, - which he inevitably did - waited another five minutes before getting up as well. They found the bathroom empty, which was a good sign. It meant that Emmet wasn’t falling back into his bad habit again. They crept through to the living room, where they found Emmet curled up into a ball on the couch, a blanket dragged around his shoulders. Squinting in the dark, they could see the blanket trembling. Muffled sobs could be heard from beneath the blankets.

 _Aw, lad…_  Good Cop murmured softly. _It really ain’t fair that he’s so torn apart…_

 _I’m gonna hunt down the ones who’ve made him feel like this and make ‘em pay,_ Bad Cop responded with a growl.  _He doesn’t deserve to be left like this._

 _Are you sure that’s a good idea?_  Good Cop asked.

_They hurt him, and they deserve to realise just what they’ve done to him._

Good Cop was about to respond when there were a gasp and a broken sob from the couch, drawing both Cops’ attention. Good Cop took over, quietly making his way over to the couch.   
  
“Emmet?”  
  
Emmet let out a yelp, tumbling off the couch and landing on the floor in shock. He hit his head on the carpet when he went down, the blanket ending up tangled around his waist and legs. “Oh, uh, hi guys. Sorry for - for waking you up.”

“Ye didn’t. We never fell asleep,” Good Cop explained softly, kneeling down on the floor beside him. He reached a hand out to brush over Emmet’s forehead. “Is yer head okay?”

“Yeah, good thing there’s carpet I guess,” Emmet chuckled awkwardly as he picked himself up off the floor, disentangling himself from the blanket and sitting back on the couch. Good Cop sat beside him without a word, placing a hand on Emmet’s shoulder. The construction worker sighed softly, resting his chin in his hand. “Just give me like five minutes? I’ll come back to bed in a moment…”  
  
“C’mon, Em, what’s going on?” Good Cop asked softly. “This isn’t the first time ye’ve woken up in the middle of the night and gone and hid in the living room.”

“... it’s stupid, really.”  
  
“No, it can’t be if it’s been keeping ye up so much.” Good Cop took Emmet’s hand in his own, giving it a squeeze. “Ye know ye can always talk ta us, right?”

Emmet looked away. “It’s - it’s really not important.”  
  
“Emmet, ye’ve been climbing out of bed and locking yerself in the bathroom or coming out here to cry yer heart out into the cushions. Whatever’s troubling ye has to be important.”

“G it really doesn’t matter-”  
  
“If ye say it doesn’t matter one more time we’ll suffocate ye with the pillow.” Good Cop cut him off. “Now c’mon. Ye trust us, don’t ye?”  
  
“I - of course, I do, it’s just…” The construction worker sighed quietly, wrapping his arms around himself. “... You know how hard it is for me to talk about stuff.”  
  
“Emmet, when yer excited? It’s hard for ye  _not_  to talk about stuff.”

“That’s different…”  
  
“Lad.” Good Cop brought his partner in close, both arms wrapped around him. “Whatever’s worrying ye, we’ll work through it together, okay?”

“... I’m worried you guys are gonna leave me.”

“What?” Good Cop frowned. “Em, we’ve told ye before, that ain’t gonna happen.”

“I - I know, but…”  
  
“This isn’t about yer lack of interest in sex, is it?”  
  
“Sort of?” Emmet picked at his sleeve, prompting Good Cop to lightly smack his hand away. He tucked his hands under his armpits. “It’s kind of a mix of things.”  
  
“Well, maybe start with one thing and work through ‘em?”

“Well… then yeah, it kinda is about the sex thing. I can’t help but feel like you guys are gonna end up leaving me because I can’t do the things you want to do.”

“Well, yer wrong. B and I really don’t think sex is all that important to a relationship, and breaking up with someone as sweet as you are just because yer not interested in sex would be silly.”

“But -”  
  
“Ah ah, no buts. We love ye for you, Em, not fer sex. If we were gonna break up with ye over something like that, we would have done it by now, and since we’re still together, doesn’t that count fer something?”

“I - I guess?”

Good Cop leaned in to kiss his forehead. “We ain’t gonna leave ye just because ye don’t want sex, okay?”

Emmet let out a small sigh, one he didn’t realise he’d been holding. “Okay…”

“Good.” He kissed his forehead again. “Now, what’s the second thing?”

“... I’m worried you’ll leave me because I’m too boring.”

“Oh, Em. Yer not boring, not in the slightest.”  
  
“Try telling that to everyone else!” Emmet huffed. “Before the whole Taco Tuesday thing, I didn’t have anyone! You guys saw for yourselves just how little people knew about me! Barely any of them could remember my name!”

“That’s on them. It’s their fault fer not paying ye any attention.”  
  
“They didn’t pay me any attention because I was so boring! Everyone had those classes when they were at school that they just didn’t care about because they were dull, and that’s just how everyone sees me!”

“Emmet -”  
  
“Don’t you ever wonder why I never had any photos of anyone in my apartment before I met Lucy and the others? Why those guys are the only ones I talk to other than you? Why I never have anybody from work over here for dinner, or go anywhere with them? It’s ‘cause they all  _know_  I’m as dull as you can get! The only thing people want to talk to me about is being the Special! They don’t care about me as a person, they just want me to talk about how I saved everyone!”

“Em, listen -”  
  
“I mean why would they want to know anything about me?! There isn’t anything  _to_  know about me! Until I met you guys, and Lucy and Unikitty and everyone else I had nobody! I didn’t have any defining traits whatsoever so it’s no wonder that-”  
  
“Emmet Brickowski you listen to us right now,” Bad Cop snapped, having taken over from his brother. Emmet’s mouth snapped shut immediately, the construction worker looking almost  _embarrassed_. Bad Cop gave his hand a squeeze, before continuing to talk. “Yer not boring, or dull, or anything ye say ye are. Yer not the Special fer nothing. Anyone who says yer boring needs a good smack to the head to knock some sense into ‘em! Yer the most caring, loving, funny and adorable person we’ve ever met and not a day goes by that we don’t think ourselves lucky fer having ye.”

Emmet had his eyes shut tightly, his free hand curled into a fist. For a moment, Bad Cop was worried he’d said something wrong. “Lad? You okay?”

The Cops never got a response. Well, not a verbal one anyway. Emmet let out a muffled sob before throwing himself at Bad Cop, embracing him in a tight hug. Bad Cop was startled at first, before bringing his arms up around his partner, rubbing small circles in Emmet’s back.

“Do you - do you really believe all that?”

“A hundred per cent.” Bad Cop nodded, kissing Emmet’s forehead. “We love ye more than anything and we could never dream of leaving ye.”

Emmet smiled through his tears, leaning up to give him a kiss. Bad Cop was more than happy to return it, holding Emmet close to him. When they parted, he bumped his forehead against Emmet’s, grinning wildly. “Gosh, Em, we love ye so much.”  
  
“I love you guys too,” Emmet murmured, fighting off a yawn. “Should we go back to bed?”  
  
“Probably, yeah,” Bad Cop chuckled. In one fluid motion, he scooped Emmet up into his arms. Emmet let out a surprised yelp, his arms flying to grab onto Bad Cop’s shoulders. The officer laughed and kissed Emmet’s forehead as he carried him back through to their bedroom, before dumping Emmet onto their bed.

The construction worker blew a tuft of hair out of his face with a pout. “Why do you guys keep doing that?”  
  
“‘Cause yer adorable and so easy to pick up.” Bad Cop grinned as he climbed into his side of the bed. “Besides, yer cute when ye get all grumpy like that.”  
  
Emmet crossed his arms with another huff. “I’m not grumpy.”  
  
Bad Cop snorted in amusement, leaning over to kiss Emmet’s pouting lips. “Ahuh, and G’s middle name isn’t Jedediah.”  
  
_You promised you’d stop pointing that out!_ Good Cop whined, causing Bad Cop to laugh. At Emmet’s confused look, he filled in the blanks. “G says I promised I’d stop pointing out his middle name.”  
  
Emmet giggled at that. “It’s not the worst middle name out there. You could have the name ‘Gideon’, or something really mundane like ‘John’.”  
  
“So says you, Emmet  _Christopher_ Brickowski.”  
  
Emmet scowled at that. “Oh shut up.”

Bad Cop laughed again, kissing Emmet’s forehead. “Oh just get into bed, lad. Ye need yer sleep.”

Emmet huffed and climbed under the duvet beside him, lying with his back to him. “Fine, but I’m still gonna pout.”

“Oh are ye?” Bad Cop smirked, placing his hand on Emmet’s shoulder.

“Yep.”   
  
“Are ye?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
_“Are_  ye?”  
  
“B, what are you-” The minute Emmet turned around to face him, Bad Cop kissed him hard. Emmet’s eyes went wide in shock for a moment, before he kissed back eagerly.

Bad Cop pulled away after a few moments, looking triumphant. “Now will ye stop being grumpy?”  
  
“Fine,” Emmet chuckled softly, snuggling a little bit closer to his partner. “But only ‘cause I love you guys.”

“We love ya too, Em.” Bad Cop pressed a kiss to the top of Emmet’s head, hugging him close. “Now c’mon, get some rest. Ye’ve got work in the morning.”  
  
“Yeah yeah, I know.” Emmet yawned, laying his head on Bad Cop’s shoulder. “Night guys.”

“Night.” The Cops kissed the top of his head again as they turned out the bedside lamp. The cuddled Emmet a little closer, pulling the duvet right up to cover both of them properly. Emmet mumbled to himself as he snuggled in close, letting out a final soft yawn before drifting back off to sleep.

Bad Cop lay awake for another short while, just listening to the rhythmic sound of Emmet breathing. He brushed his fingers through Emmet’s hair in slow, repeated motions. Emmet never really reacted as he did so, indicating he was fast asleep. As they lay there, the Cops couldn’t help but consider just how lucky they were to have Emmet in their lives. Emmet had given them a second chance after the whole Taco Tuesday mess when everyone else wanted them thrown behind bars permanently. He’d seen something in the Cops that nobody else had, and had decided that they were worthy of redemption. Nobody else had wanted to give the Cops the time of day except Emmet, and they were always going to be grateful for that. Emmet had given them another chance at living. And honestly? That was the best gift he’d ever given them.

Bad Cop smiled to himself, before shutting his eyes and allowing himself to fall asleep as well. No, they weren’t going to leave Emmet for a single damn reason.


End file.
